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WHO SPEAKS FIRST. 



THE MINOR DRAMA 

-vo. LiV)Ut£9 

EDITED BY F. C. WEMYS8. 



THE TOODLES. 

% JDomestu: JUramct. 

IN TWO ACTS. 

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES IN NEW YORK. 



NEW-YORK j 
WM. TAYLOE & CO., 18 Ann-St. 

BALTIMORE, MD. 
WM. & HENRY TAYLOR, Sun Iron Buildings. 

1854. 



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v. 






REMARKS 



This Drama, which has been so successful in New York, was origi- 
nally produced in London, under the title of The Farmer's Story; or, 
The Broken Heart, and the famed Timothy Toodles was therein de- 
signated Mr. Tweedle. Mr. Burton, pleased with the novelty of the 
idea, wrote up this part for himself, and, under the title of 
The Toodles, aided by his own excellent acting, it has become 
one of the most popular of modern dramas. Mr. Charles Burke has 
also added to his well-earned reputation by his admirable performance 
of this part at the Bowery Theatre and elsewhere, while Chanfrau 
adds it to the best of his parts. It is one of those instances in which 
the under-plot of a piece has become its principal attraction— but we 
must not lose sight of the Drama itself in our admiration of the ac- 
tors. The story of the farmer and his two sons, is well told, the plot 
carried on to the end of the piece with much ability. Charles Fenton, 
the rough and honest Tar, ever ready to do a generous action and 
ever ready to protect his shipmate, or to fight with him in the cause 
of his sweetheart, is admirably drawn. The characters of the two 
brothers, George and Francis Acorn, are well contrasted. Mrs. Tabitha 
Toodles is a gem, with her continued bargains at auction — while Mary 
Acorn, the good and virtuous daughter, niece, and betrothed brido, 
suffering for the faults of others, excites the sympathy and admira- 
tion of the audience. Few dramas of the present day are more en- 
titled to success than The ToocLles, which will hold its place upon the 
Stage for many years. F. C. W 



CAST OF CHARACTERS, 



As performed at the Bowery Theatre, X. Y..1: 



Ofcrfo F:-,:ci. , Mr StoML 

Fir -,-- A:-'--: Mr flenfe 

■ ■ - - _ .1 Mr. R MlM ■-■ 

Mr. Timothy Twdles Mr. Chftri 

Lawyer Olib^ 

Farmer Fenton, Mr. Byrne. 

1st JFhrmer, Mr. Rodgers. 

2nd Farmer, Mr. Armand. 

3rd Farmer^. Mr. Reed. 

Landlord, Mr. Calladine. 

Mi -i A:: . .. Mis:- Herring, 

Mr$. Tabtika Ibodles, Mr*. Teotna 



STAGE MEMORANDA. 

R. means Right; L. Left ; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door ; 
S. E. Second Entrance; U E. U; per Entrance; M. D. MiddU Door; 

zee. 



THE TOODLES. 



ACT I. 
Scene I.-— Rustic view. — Cottage r. h. 
Enter male and female villagers. Music. 
Chorus, 

Brightly, brightly, dawns the day, 
A fair and cheerful warning, 
That joy will all our toils repay 
Throughout this cheerful morning. 

[At the end of which villagers go off, and Mary 
enters from cottage, r. h.] 

Mary. Ob, how beautiful is this morning ; the birds are 
singing merrily — the flowers budding forth, and every- 
thing looks propitious on the day that I'm to be united to 
my dear Charles. 

Enter Charles, l. u. e. 

Cha. Oh, my dear Mary, I hove down, as fast as I could 
make sail. Bless your dear toplights—- and so this is the 
little frigate I'm to take command of. 

Mary. I'm not a frigate, and I don't want to be pulled 
about, hbre> there> and every where. 



8 THE TOODLES. 

Cha. Come, don't pout those pretty lips — don't let the 
slightest cloud darken our matrimonial hemisphere — but, 
here comes your father. 

Enter Farmer Acorn from the cottage, r. h. 

Far. Ah, Charles, my dear boy* Come, Mary, bustle 
about, and get all in readiness — the villagers will be here 
soon to accompany you to church — then, hey for matri- 
mony, and I trust for perfect happiness. 

Cha. There's no fear of that, Farmer, with such a tight 
little craft as Mary, and such a pilot as you to direct our 
course. 

Far. Alas ! be not too sanguine, my good lad, least in 
the hour of trial you feel more keenly your disappointment 
— the sad reality of bitter experience too fully justifies the 
advice I give you. 

Cha. Experience ! 

Far. Yes, experience. 'Tis now twenty years, this very 
day, since I led her mother to the altar. A twelvemonth had 
scarcely glided away, when in giving birth to this my only 
child, she was torn from me, and consigned for ever to an 
early grave. Since then, my dear Mary has been the 
only solace of my affections. Oh, how often and how 
fondly have I gazed upon those features, and listened with 
delight to that voice whose tones have brought back the 
memory of her I could almost have wished to have for- 
gotten. 

Mary. Oh, bless you — bless you, my dearest father ! 

Far. My ever-duteous child, in giving you to this young 
man, I seem to sever the last link that binds me to this 
world. Charles, to thy keeping I commit the dearest 
treasure of my heart. Oh, guard her with the tenderest 
care, comfort her in the hour of trouble, and when this 
careworn body shall have resigned its claim to mortality, 
be thou to her what her father has been, and I shall die 
contented. 

[Music. Mary and Charles kneel, and the Farmer 
blesses them, after which the villagers, male and 
female, enter from r. and l. h., and congratulate 
the affianced lovers.— After which a Dante. 



ftttf TOODLES. 9 



Enter Farmer Fenton, IstE., l. h. 

Pen. I am sorry to be the bearer of unpleasant news, 
but I fear the contents of this letter will somewhat darken 
your merry faces. 

Cha, Wh} r j what's in the wind now, Farmer ? no ill 
storm brewing, I hope ? 

Fen, Old Nipcheese> the purser, brought it and said, 
you were to go on board immediately by some particular 
order, but that you would not be detained many hours. 

Cha. This is too bad ; after fighting the briny billows 
for three years, and landing in the haven of joy, to be 
driven out to sea again. 

Far. 'Tis hard indeed, Charles, but a sailor's first duty 
is obedience to the commands of his superior, and as to the 
marriage^ 'tis but deferring it one day longer. What says 
my child ? 

[Mary crosses the stage to Charles. 

Mary. Go, my dear Charles, and the joy of your return 
will compensate the pain of any delay. 

Cha. Bless your dear pipe. We'll heave ahead, father 
^—farewell) Mary^— one kiss at parting, and then farewell. 

[Music at first lively and then bold. Charles and 
old Fenton go off l. h. Farmer Acorn and 
Mary go into the cottage it. h. Music changes 
and George Acorn enters u. e. r. h. 

Geo. Yes-, this is the spot— these fields — yon verdant 
hills-^the gentle stream that runs below the rustic arch,, 
and yonder straw-thatched cottage, beneath whose homely 
roof my boyish days were passed — all,, all, recall the bit- 
terest recollections^ and awaken those feelings- of revenge,, 
"which I once thought the softening hand of time had some- 
what dulled. Yonder too is the" little shrubbery, where 7 
after the labor of the day, I have so- often waited my 
Mary's return. Oh, had shebeen mine, how different had 
been my lot in life — and so* she might have been but for 
him, my brother. How well do I remember his oily 
words, when last we parted. " George," said he % " thou 



10 THE TOODLES. 

seest the lass gives me the preference, but let it not breed 
disunion between us : we may still be happy, still love 
each other." Villain, hypocrite, rob me of that dearer 
than life itself, and after prate to me of happiness — no — 
when I swore by the blue heavens above us, from that mo- 
ment we were strangers, worse, enemies. Sixteen years 
have now gone by since that oath passed my lips, and the 
maddening recollections of being betrayed — his deceptive 
arts revive with doubled force, the hate, the lasting bitter 
bate, which then was planted in my heart. Yes, for six- 
teen years I have been a wanderer in foreign climes, and 
what has borne me up, through every ill, in burning heat, 
and piercing cold — why, hate — why, deep and deadly hate. 
Now then to seek him. 

[Music. Exit George, l. 1st e. 

Scene II. — Landscape — Village in the distance. 

Mrs. Toodles speaks outside — "But, my dear Toodles." 

Enter from 2?id e., l. h., Mr. Toodles, Mrs. Toodles fol- 
low i)ig him. 

Toodles. Oh, don't dear Toodles me — you'll drive me 
mad — your conduct is scandalous in the extreme. 

Mrs T. My dear Toodles, don't say so. 

Toodles. But I will say so, Mrs. Toodles. What will be- 
come of us, with your passion of going to auctions, and 
buying every thing you see, because its cheap. I say, 
Mrs. Toodles, where's the money, and echo answers, 
where. 

Mrs. T. Vm sure, my dear Toodles, I lay it out to the 
best advantage. 

Toodles. You shall not squander and waste my means. 

Mrs. T. My dear. I buy nothing but what's useful. 

Toodles. "Useful — useless you mean. I won't have my 
house turned into an hospital for invalid furniture. At 
the end of the week I ask where's the money — all gone too 
— spent in damned nonsense. 

Mrs. T. My love, although they are of no use to you at 
present, we may want them, and how useful it will be to 
have them in the house. 



THE TOODLES, 11 

Tcodles. Why, Mrs. T., the house is full already of 
damaged chairs, and dilapidated tables, sofas with one leg, 
washstands with two legs, chairs with three legs, and 
some without a leg to stand upon. 

Mrs. T. I'm sure you can't tind fault with the last bar- 
gain I bought. 

Toodles. What is it? 

Mrs, T A pair of crutches. 

Toodles. A pair of crutches ! What use are they to me, 
Mrs. T ? 

Mrs. T. No, not at present, but you might meet with 
an accident, and then, how handy it will be to have them 
in the house. 

Toodles. Oh ! here's a woman goes to an auction and 
buys a pair of crutches in anticipation that her husband 
will break his legs. But look what you did the other day, 
when this railroad was finished out here, why curse me, if 
you did not buy forty-three wheelbarrows — some with 
wheels, and some without wheels ; and then again, before 
this new system of police was introduced, we had watch- 
men, and watch-boxes — now our police have stars on their 
breasts, and the corporation abolished watchboxes. They 
were all put up at auction, and I'll be hanged if you didn't 
buy ninety- three watch-boxes. 

Mrs. T. Now, my dear Toodles, how unreasonable you 
are ; you don't know but they will be wanted, and then how 
handy it will be to have them in the house. 

Toodles. That's your old excuse. We have wheelbar- 
rows in the yard, watch-boxes in the cellar, wheelbarrows 
and watch-boxes all over the house. The pigs eat out of 
the wheelbarrows, and the cows sleep in the watchboxes. 

Mrs. T. Now, my dear Toodles, don't that prove their 
utility ! 

Toodles. When I came home the other night, I tumbled 
into something and broke my shins. I called Jane to 
bring a light. I found myself in a watchbox. What was 
your last purchase? The other day I saw a cart before 
the door, and two men carrying into the house a door- 
plate. 

Mrs. T. My dear Toodles — 

Toodles. And the name of Thompson upon it. Thomp- 
son with a P. Mrs. Toodles, if I were not innately a 



12 THE TOODLES. 

sober man, you would drive me to an extreme case of 
drinking. Well, what was your reason for buying the 
door-plate? "Toodles, my dear," says you, "we may 
have a daughter, and that daughter may be a female — 
and live to the age of maturity — and she may marry a 
man of the name of Thompson with a P. — then, how 
handy it will be to have it in the house ! 

Mrs. T. And won't it dear ? 

Toodles. You had it stuck over the mantle-piece, and 
when I come down to breakfast or home to dinner, there's 
that o'dious name of Thompson looking me in the face. — 
If I had a daughter, and I caught a man of the name of 
Thompson making love to her, I'd break his head with 
that door-plate. 

Mrsr. T But, my dear Toodles — 

Toodles. Yes, Mrs.T.,I say religiously, morally, sincere- 
ly, and emphatically — damn Thompson ! 

Enter George Acorn, 1st e., l. h. 

Geo. I beg your pardon, but as I'm a stranger in these 
grounds, perhaps you could inform me if one Farmer 
Acorn lives in these parts ? 

Toodles. Why — yes — there is a farmer Acorn, lives here 
— one — no more. 

Geo. Yes, young Frank. 

Toodles. Not so very young either. He has a daughter 
grown up — quite a young woman. 

Geo. True, true — I had forgotten the lapse of time. He 
had a brother, had he not ? 

Mrs. T. Yes, who was — 

Toodles. Allow me, Mrs. Toodles, to inform the gentle- 
man. He had a brother. 

Mrs. T. Well— say on. 

Toodles. Don't interrupt me, Mrs. T. He had a brother. 

Mrs. T. You said that before. 

Toodles. Now, Mrs. T., I say it behind — he had a bro- 
ther. 

Mrs. T. Well, get on. 

Toodles. Will you be quiet, Mrs. Toodles? I'll say no 
more. You never let me do anything properly. 

Mrs. T. Properly, indeed. — Here have we been married 



THE TOODLES. 13 

these three years, and you hav'nt done anything properly 
yet. 

Toodles. Thank ye, ma'am. Will you allow me, Mrs. 
Toodles, to give this individual the required information ? 
(crosses to the r. h.) He had a brother — he went to sea — 
and then, we didn't hear of him — then we did — then we 
didn't — then again we did. He turned pirate and was 
hanged at the foreyard arm of one of the king's ships, who 
took him. Yes — sir — hanged. 

Geo. Hanged — and the old man ? 

Toodles. Oh, the father, when he heard of his son's mis- 
hap — poor old mail' — he went broken-hearted to his grave. 

Geo. Indeed — my old father died of a broken heart, and 
I the cause ! Oh, horror — but no, it was not I, it was the 
traitor, Frank, who drove me from my home, and destroy- 
ed us both. 

Toodles. That man must be a married man — he's got a 
Mrs. Toodles at home — his upper story is a little out of 
repair, I imagine. 

Geo. The old man died, and his property ■ 

Toodles. Why — he did leave every thing to the absent 
and favorite son, George, in case, by some accident, he 
might come to life again, as Frank has enough of his own, 
but has lately been unfortunate, and lives in the old man's 
house, which he has occupied since, just before his death. 

Geo. Ah, he took possession of it, did ho, and I suppose 
he lives as happy and as comfortable in it as if it was his 
own ! 

Toodles. Why, it is his own. The brother, George, is 
dead, and can't return, and of course don't want to live 
in it. 

Geo. But his brother may return and drive the spoiler 
forth. 

Toodles. What, return again, in person ixj propria ? Oh, 
come, you are trying to frighten us with ghosts and spirits, 
as if we were children, but it won't do. You are not 
afraid of spirits, are you, Mrs. T ? 

Mrs. T My dear Toodles, you know I am not. 

Toodles. I thought so, when I saw you empty that 
black bottle this morning. 

Mrs. T. Oh, you brute ! 



14 , THE TOODLES. 

Toodles. Besides, we are going to a wedding here — 
plenty of dancing — drinking — what Mrs. Toodles likes. 

Geo. A wedding, said you? 

Mrs. T. {crosses to c.) Yes, a wedding. Young Charles 
Penton is to be married to Frank Acorn's only daughter, 
Mary. 

Toodles. Yes, Mary's a very pretty girl, and Charles a 
devilish handsome fellow. It is said we are very much 
alike ! [ Walks ostentatiously across the stage. 

Mrs. T. You, indeed. You think so, no doubt, for you 
fancy every girl that looks at you is in love with you. 

Toodles. I can't help loving the girls, Mrs. Toodles. — 
You must not think I'm a man of no taste because I mar- 
ried you. 

Mrs. T Oh, you unfeeling wretch I 

Toodles. Don't say so, Mrs. Toodles. I'm going to 
have a grand auction, just to please you. I'll sell off the 
watch-boxes, cratches, and ail the rest of the live stock. 

Mrs. T. Now, that is kind, Toodles dear. You'll let me 
conduct the whole affair, w T on't you, my pet? 

Toodles. You shall, my angel, and the first article you 
shall knock down shall be 

Mrs. T. What, my sweet ? 

Toodles. Mrs. Toodles ! 

Mrs. T. Mr. Toodles, you wouldn't lose me for the 
world ! 

Toodles. Wouldn't I — try me. I'll knock you down to 
Thompson with a P. 

Mrs. T. Perhaps he may buy me. 

Toodles. Will he ? — Let him only make a bid and he 
shall have the door-plate into the bargain. 

[Exit with Mrs. Toodles, \st e., r. h. 

Geo. Pirate — hanged — so, so, 'tis plain it was but a 
plot to rob me of my rights, and he, my brother, the cause 
of all — the poor old man too, to die brokenhearted — oh, 
blistered be the tongue that spoke such falsehood in his 
dying ear — but I'll be revenged — yes, fate in giving him 
the object of my soul, which he so basely snatched from 
me, has made him loathsome to my soul, and what I loathe 
and hate shall I not destroy ? if an adder sting me, or a rat 
crawls noisome on my path, shall I not crush them ? Yes 
— revenge ! revenge ! [Exit 1st e., l. h. 



THE TOODLES. 15 



Scene III. — A Church-yard — A wall with a gate in the 
centre — old Farmer Acorn's tomb-stone on the r. h.— 
Mary Acorn's tomb discovered on the l. h. 

Enter Farmer Acorn and Farmer Fenton through the 
gate in c. 

F. Acorn. We are secure from observation— as we are 
to be more closely connected, by the union of our children, 
I will here relate to you what I have so often promised, 
the short and sad story of my domestic woes. 

F. Fen. I shall listen with anxiety and attention. 

F. Acorn. I have before told you of my brother George 
■ — his ignominous captivity and death — my father, broken- 
hearted, breathed his last, a short time before my wife was 
snatched from me — my cattle died — my crops failed, and 
from a respectable farmer I became almost reduced to 
beggary. I stand, as it were, alone in the world, a blast- 
ed tree upon a barren heath. 

Enter George Acorn, at c. gate 

Fen. But your father's property. 

F. Acorn. Knowing I was well provided for, at the time 
of his demise, he bequeathed it all to my brother George. 
Should he ever return — for he fondly imagined he still 
lived— but as nothing has occurred to contradict the re- 
port of his death — just before you came to the village I 
took possession of the farm, which I intend to give to my 
daughter as a wedding present, nor in this shall I do 
wrong to any one — as my brother is for ever lost to us — 
the grave cannot give up its victim. 

George Acorn comes doion in the c. 

Geo, Yes, villain, but it can ! Behold the man you 
have so basely wronged. 

F. Acorn. Can it be— yes — 'tis he indeed — my brother 
—welcome ! welcome ! 

Geo. Off, off — touch me not, touch me not. 



16 THE T00t>LES, 

F. Acorn. What means this violence ? Hear me 5 George, 
as heaven is my witness, never have I injured you in word 
or deed. 

Geo, Not injured me ! — 'tis false — thou hast stood be- 
tween me and happiness — but now a feeling of sunshine 
breaks in from my blackened fortunes, and vengeance 
smiling on my hopes, leaves me to triumph. Hence, quit 
the farm — I am master now — go, hide your head in 
some work-house, starve, rot in prison^ — die on a dung- 
hill, I care not. 

F. Acorn. George, you are deceived* 

Geo. I know it, and by thee 1 

jR Acorn. Often in my prayers have i and Mary- 

Geo. Mary, name her not, I say, least in the madness 
of my passion and revenge I strike thee to my feet. 

jP. Acorn. Speak not thus, George— she — the innocent 
cause of all, lies beneath your feet. 

Geo. I care not-- there follow her — my hate shall follow 
you to the grave ! 

F. Acorn. Hold, George — think where you stand — up- 
on sacred ground — before yon edifice— -to the grave, said 
you— that should bury every error, cover every defect, ex- 
tinguish every resentment. Who can look down upon the' 
grave of an enemy and not feel a pang that he should 
have warred with the poor handful of dust that lies moul- 
dering away beneath him. Behold, too, the grave of our 
father, who in his dying hour - 

Geo. Aye, I know, he loaded me with curse3, and all 
through thee. 

[Crosses the stage to qRe l. h. 

F. AcGrn, {on the r. of 'the c.) No — no — no! 

Geo. What ! did he not curse me then ? 

F. Acorn. No, George, no. His last words implored a 
blessing on your head. 

Geo. What — on my head ! The old man — did he — a; 
blessing— bless — bless all — ha ! ha ! ha! 

[George Acorn falls on the grave of his father. — 
Farmer Acorn and Farmer Fenton looking on, 
as the curtain falls. 

end of act i. 






THE T00DLES. 17 



ACT II. 

Scene I. — Plain Chamber. — The curtain rises to slow 
music. Mary Acorn discovered seated on the r. h. of 
a table. — Farmer Acorn on the l. h. 

Mary. Grieve not, my dear father — all will yet be well. 

F. Acorn. Not for myself I grieve, bnt for thee, dear 
child. 

Mary. Do not despond — my uncle may relent. 

F. Acorn. Alas, my child, you know him not — for one 
cause, he presses me still, with bitterest hate — even now, 
he may arrive and drive us hence. 

Mary. He would not, could not be so cruel — my tears 
should pierce his heart, and turn it towards thee. 

F. Acorn. Thy tears would avail but little — trust rather 
to that Providence, who in the hour of need, never de- 
serts the innocent and unfortunate. But we must devise 
something for our subsistence, Mary — for, alas ! we are 
quite destitute. 

Mary. Oh, say not so, my father — I will see my uncle, 
kneel at his feet, implore him to relent. If all should fail 
to move his stubborn heart, your Mary will never desert 
you — I will still be with you, will pray for you, work for 
you. 

\Music — Mary kneels to her father, who blesses her, 
and conducts her off the stage, 1st e., r. h. 

F. Acorn. A few short years will complete my earthly 
pilgrimage. Bui for thee, my child, a boundless sea of 
trouble lies before thee, and thy fragile bark is too weak 
to weather the storm. 

Enter George Acorn, 1st e., l. h. 
Geo. What, still here ? 



18 THE T00DLES. 

F Acorn. I but come, George, to take a last farewell 
of that place in which I have passed so many happy hcurs. 
This was the old man's favorite apartment. How often 
would he sit at that window, with Mary by his side, gen- 
tly breathing forth her name, and fondly hoping for your 
return, while the tears flowed down his furrowed cheeks. 
In yonder chamber he breathed his last. Oh, George, 
George, as we last night stood by the old man's grave, I 
there hoped that we had buried all resentment. 

Geo. Lawyer, do your duty ! 

Enter Lawyer Glib, 1st e., l. h. 

L. Glib. Really, dear me — farmer, this is a most un* 
pleasant business. I speak as a professional man. 

[He produces a paper and reads as follows : 

Yoiw father writes thus— tl I hereby, &c, bequeath 
" and devise the farm, known as Acorn farm, with all the 
%t live stock thereon, implements, &c., &c, &c.,to my son 
George," — Ahem ! 

F. Acorn. Don't trouble yourself, sir, I'm perfectly 
satisfied as to the justice of my brother's claim. 

L. Glib. Excuse me, I must do my duty as a profes* 
sional man. The balance against you in the rental of the 
same, charging twenty pounds per annum, which you must 
allow me to say, is very low, amounts to £200 17s. and 6d» 
Ahem ! 

Geo. Due to me I 

L. Glib. Which you are not prepared to account for. 

F. Acorn. The demand is so sudden, so unexpected. 

L. Glib. Not prepared to liquidate — bad — then the law 
must take its course. Excuse me, I speak as a profes- 
sional man. x\hem ! 

Geo. Frank Acorn, it is now close upon sixteen years 
since we parted. I need not remind you of what has pass- 
ed between us in that time. I've borne an eternity of 
suffering, and while you revelled in luxury, sorrow, penury 
and slavery, have been my bitter lot. Who plunged me 
into this ? 

F. Acorn. What wild delusion is this ? 

Geo. Who plunged me into this ? It was yourself, and 
now comes the just* though tardy punishment. You owe 



THE TOODLES, 19 

me money — pay it — to the last farthing, or to-morrow's 
sun shall light upon you in a goal. 

jF. Acorn. Cruel and inexorable man ! 

L. Glib. Very sorry, but — ahem ! 

F. Acorn. Spare your pity, sir. I am prepared to meet 
the worst. 

L. Glib. Eeally — excuse me— I act merely as a pro- 
fessional man. Ahem ! 

F. Acorn. Enough, sir — perform your duty and conduct 
me to prison. 

Enter Mary Acorn, r. h. 

Mary. My father, my father to a prison ! no — no — it 
cannot be. 

Geo. It is — is it a dream, or do I indeed behold my 
lost Mary ? No— no — I see it all. She is my Mary's child, 
the very image of herself. Come to my arms, for her sake 
I will love and cherish you. She shrinks from me as from 
a serpent, and 'tis you — you have reared her to hate and 
fear me. 

Mary. No, no, dear uncle, he has taught me to love 
you— to pray for you. 

Geo. And dost thou, sweet image of her I once doated 
on, wilt thou love your uncle ? 

Mary. Oh, yes- — believe me, I love you, uncle. I will 
study to please you, to anticipate every half formed wish. 
Come, father— come, uncle, let me join your hands. 

Geo. Mary— Mary ! 

Mary. Come, father — dear uncle, here — here. 

[$he takes a hand of each in hers. 

Geo. (starting away) No — no — I cannot take his hand. 
'Twas he alone brought me to this misery — but for him 
I might have been blessed with a child, as lovely as thou 
art, a happy home, and a devoted wife, instead of which 
I am now a wretched outcast on the earth — childless and 
forlorn. 

Mary. No, not childless while your Mary lives. Oh, 
let me entreat you to be reconciled. 

Geo. Reconciled — ha! ha! ha! — Never! 

F. Acorn. Supplicate no more, my dear child. For thy 
dead mother's sake he will not leave her child destitute. 



20 THE TOODLES. 

Geo. Aye, for her sake I will love and cherish thee. — 
Come, then, and be a child to thy wretched uncle — and 
leave your father to his fate. 

Mary. Forsake my father ! never ! — no, I would sooner 
beg — starve, perish — forsake the father of my being ! 

Geo. Then cling to him — beg — starve — perish, if you 
will. Lawyer, do your duty. 

Exit George Acorn, 1st. e., l. h. 

Mary. My poor father, must you go to prison, (to the 
Lawyer) Oh, sir, save my poor father, I implore you. 

L. Glib. Sorry — very sorry — but the law must take 
its course. I must do my duty as a professional man. — 
Hem. 

F. Acorn. Despond not, my child — with thee as a com- 
panion, and this inward monitor to tell me I have done my 
duty and no wrong, I shall receive some comfort even 
from the damp of a prison more than luxury can afford 
even in a palace to tyranny and guilt. 

[Slow music. Exeunt Mary, Farmer Acorn and 
Lawyer Glib, l. h. 

Scene II. — A Landscape — Cottage with a sign "Black 
Hen" l. h., 3d e. Two farmers discovered at a table, 
drinking. 

2d Far. So, then, you tell me, good farmer Acorn is to 
be turned out of his farm. 

3d Far. Aye, though he has lived there many years, his 
father left the property to George, thinking Frank was 
well provided for, and as George had never been heard of, 
many years ago Frank took possession of the farm. Now, 
George, who was thought to be dead, has returned, and is 
going to turn Frank out of doors. 

2d Far. This must be prevented. I propose w r e go and 
reason with this George Acorn, and if that won't do, we'll 
give him a devilish good thrashing. 

3d Far. Aye, just so — but let us finish our ale first. — 
Ah ! here comes Farmer Fenton and neighbor Toodles. 
Now, let us keep quiet and we shall hear something. 



THE TOODLES, 21 



Enter Faemer Fenton and Toodles, 1st e., l. h. — 
Toodles very much intoxicated. 

F. Fen. When my son first courted this girl it was 
thought an excellent match. What can I do ? 

Toodles. Your duty, and your duty is to support a fall- 
ing man. [Falls into Fenton's arms, 

F. Fen. But things have taken a very different turn. 

Toodles. A very different turn have they ? 

[He turns round. 

F. Fen. Yes, Mr. Toodles, things have taken a very 
great turn, and the girl is now left destitute. 

Toodles. Des — des — ti — destitute. Act like an honest 
man. Do you know what an honest man is ? 

F. Fen. Certainly. 

Toodles. I deny it — you don't know what an honest man 
is. 

F. Fen. Certainly I do — an honest man is 

Toodles. No such thing. 

F. Fen. I say an honest man is 

Toodles. I differ with you. 

F. Fen. Allow me to say an honest man is 

Toodles. No such thing. You don't know what an 
honest man is — and you've known me for a long time. 

F. Fen. Neighbor Toodles, you are getting impertinent, 
and I shall leave you. I say impertinent, impertinent, sir. 

[Exit Farmer Fenton, l. h. 

Toodles. (looking after him) That man reminds me of a 
man I once knew — not that man — but another man — (ar- 
ranges his gloves and commences drawing them o?i) — This 
man I once knew — not that man — he called his creditors 
together — says he — not that man says he — its against my 
interest — to pay so much principal — no — no — its against 
my principles to pay so much interest — this man — that 
man — holloa — this glove's got no thumb — this man I once 
knew — not that man that — (looks at his gloves, first at one, 
then at tlie other) no thumbs, no fingers. Mrs. Toodles 
bought these parts at auction — this man — (turns and sees 
the farmers at the table) how are you, my boys ? 

2d Far. (rising from the table) Come along. Farmer 



22 THE TOODLES. 

Acorn always acted like a man. I'll be hanged if he 
shan't be treated like one. 

[The ttvo farmers go off 1st e., l. h. 
Toodles. Landlord, bring me a light, I told you to 
bring me one candle, not two candles. No — its not two 
candles — its a sort of a double barrelled candle, [he tries 
to light his yripe* and puts out the candle in the attempt) 
I think I won't smoke, (he gets up from the table and puts 
down his pipe) I'll go home to Mrs. Toodles, to my own 
dear Tabitha. I wonder if she has been to auction to- 
day. 

[D-rops his glove — looks in his hat for it — shakes 
his handkerchief- — sees the glove on the floor — 
tries to pick it up — in so doing his hat falls — in 
endeavoring to pick v.p which, he staggers and 
falls — gets up with difficulty unci staggers off l. 
h., u. E. 



Note. — The whole of the business of this scene is perfectly " ad 
libitum, n and depends upon the actor who represents the part of 
Toodles. 

Scene III. — Landscape — lively music. 

Enter Charles Fenton, r. h. 

Cha. So, having reported myself and made all right, 
here I am on my return to my dear Mary. It was some- 
what hard, just as I had neared the haven of delight to 
have orders to put back to sea again. But, no matter, I 
know Mary is anxiously expecting me. I shall soon call 
her mine, and Lord bless her pretty face— I wouldn't 
change her for a queen (noise heard without) Ha ! what 
do I see — ruffians attacking a traveler, and he with a blue 
jacket on. I'll bear down to the spot, and if I die on it 
show the cowardly rascals that one to one is fair play. 

[Exit Charles Fenton, r. h. 

Scene IV. — Hurried music — Landscape — A Cottage r., 
u. e. — A Railing across the stage — A bank on the l. h., 
u. E. 



THE TOODLES. 23 



Enter Charles Penton, driving the 2d and 3d Farmers 

across the stage from l. h. to r. h., the?i returns 

from r. h. 

Cha. Cowardly land-lubbers — two upon one. I'll never 
stand by and see it — and now then to tow safe into port 
and harborage, the craft I've saved. 

[Slow music — Charles Penton goes off the stage 
l. h., and returns, assisting George Acorn, 
whom he places on the bank, l. h., u. e. 

Steady your helm, all right — bring yourself to an anchor. 
There you are — they've damaged your upper rigging, and 
stove in your bulk-head — now then for assistance — I'll tow 
you into port, never fear. 

Geo. Thanks, my brave fellow. 

Cha. Why as I live, here's the farmers cottage {knocks, 
at the door) No answer — halloa, Farmer Acorn — Parmer 
Acorn. [Exit into the cottage. 

Enter Toodles at the back of the stage. 

Toodles. {singing) " Happy and glorious, 'long to reign 
over us," &c. 

[He endeavors to get over the railing, and having 
done so, stumbles and falls ewer George Acorn's 
feet. 

Hallo — what's that? I thought it was a stone. 

Geo. Pool! 

Toodles. So you are, Toodles. You were very wrong 
for musing in bad company. 

Enter Charles Yenton from the cottage. 

Cha. Neither the farmer nor Mary in the house. Where 
can they be ? Where's Mary ? 

Toodles. What Mary? Mary quite contrary? She's 
gone to take tea with Mrs. T. 

Cha. And the farmer ? 



24 THE TOODLES. 

Toodles. He was to have taken tea with Mrs. T., but 
he's taking tea quite nice and comfortable in goal. 
Cha. In goal \ are you drunk or mad ? 

Toodles, {turning towards Charles) Can you look me 
in the face and ask me that question ? What a strange 
co — co — co — incidence — that's what — -just what I asked 
— are you in — in — e — briated or are you 'toxicated? 
Mrs. Toodles, you are a 

Cha. [crossing to Geo. Acorn) Oh, stupid fool! 

Toodles. So she is. How well he knows her. 

Cha. Come, then, my hearty, (assists George forward) 
Why, can it be my old shipmate, G-eorge Haywood ! 

Toodles. What ! do you know that gentleman ? 

Cha. To be sure I do. We sailed together in the good 
ship Inflexible. 

Toodles. The what, whatable? . 

Cha. The Inflexible ! 

Toodles. Hurrah for the Flexible ! 

Cha. Why what wind blows you here? 

Toodles. An ill-wind blows nobody good. 

Geo. You are deceived — my name is Acorn. 

Cha. What, the farmer's long lost brother ? I thought 
you had long ago settled all your differences. 

Toodles. Yes, all settled, and I've got the receipts in 
my pocket. 

Geo. We have, we have ! 

Cha. Your name's Acorn — then you are my dear Mary's 
uncle. 

Geo. Your Mary ! 

Cha. Yes — she's about to become my wife. But 
where can she be ? Neither Mary or the farmer are at 
home. 

Geo. 'Tis no longer his — 'tis mine ! 

Cha. Yours? 

Geo. Mine ! I came and found another revelling in my 
birthright, and I turned the spoiler forth. 

Cha. Look ye — you are the first who ever taught me 
to point a jacket or reef a top-sail, but if you do aught to 
injure my Mary, damn me if I don't pour such a broad- 
side into your buttock shrouds that shall disable you for 
the rest of your life. 

[Exit Charles Fenton, IstE., r. bl 



THE TOODLES. 25 

Toodles. Look ye, you are the first who ever taught me 
to point a basket, or thread a needle, but if you do aught 
to injure Mrs. Toodles, damn me if I don't pour such a 
broadside into your buttock shrouds as shal! disable you 
for the rest of your life. 

[Exit Toodles, 1st e., r, h. 

Geo, What means this pain which shoots across my 
heart ? Is it not the sting of self-reproach— does it not 
tell me I have used my power with a rod of iron, and made 
the innocent suffer for the guilty — but there is time to re- 
pent. Yes, my brave preserver shall be happy with the 
girl of his heart. They shall not be torn asunder. For my 
brother — away — he merits not that name, and shall I then 
forgive him who made me an outcast and wanderer on the 
earth ? Never ! never \ 

[Exit George Acorn, r. h., 1st e. 

Scene V. — A Chamber with centre doors. 
Enter Mary Acorn and Charles Fenton, l. h. 

Mary. Will not my uncle relent ? 

Cha. He seems full of bitterness, but do you plead to 
him — teach him humanity. 

Enter Toodles, l, h* 

Toodles. Humanity— ah ! — humanity. That man does 
not know what humanity means. He turned the farmer 
out of the house, and eat his victuals afterwards. 

Mrs. Toodles speaks outside, l. h. 

Mrs. Toodles. You can't come in here ! 
Toodles. Eh ! That's Mrs. Toodles' voice. You may 
take your oath of it. 

Enter George Fenton, l. h. 
Geo. Away !— -I seek not you. Away, woman I 

Enter Mrs. Toodles, l. h. 
Mrs. T. You shan't come in here — (to Toodles)— And 



26 THE TOODLES. 






you, you brute, to stand quietly by and hear your wife 
abused- — and called — woman! 

Toodles. "What — ain't you a woman ? Oh ! then what 
are you, a man ? [Retires up ivith Mrs, Toodles. 

Cha. What, are you here after the ruin you have caused, 
to insult the victims of your persecutions ? 

Geo. I came not to insult, but to offer your intended 
wife a dowry and a friend. 

Cha. Do you hear, Mary ? 

Geo. Reflection has restored me to myself, and the in- 
nocent must not suffer for the guilty. Half my little for- 
tune shall be yours, Mary— use it as thou wilt, so you 
will not hate, but pray for your heart-broken uncle. 

Mary. Thanks, thanks. But pray restore my father to 
liberty, and I will worship you. 

Geo. Well, he is free ! 

Mary. He will bless you for that word. 

Geo. But I cannot— will not see him. 

Mary. There is but one day — the thought is a sudden 
one. Yes, yes, I will try it— it shall be so. 

[Exit Mary at the c. 

Mrs. T. There, you see, it takes a woman to soften a 
man. 

Toodles. Yes, you've made me very soft ! 

Cha. It does, indeed — -woman, the solace of man's life, 
his companion in riches and poverty — his comforter in 
sickness — the partner of his joys or woes. 

Toodles. Them's the sentiments — they are my senti* 
ments. Oh, woman — lovely woman — you are a trump— 
that's not exactly the word, but the sentiment's the same. 

Mrs. T. Ah, Toodles, I like to hear you talk in that 
way, my dear — w T hy don't you behave better to me ? 

Toodles. I will, my dear-- you've been a good wife to 
me, Tabitha. I went to the auction too, to-day. I've got 
a present for you — I bought it quite a bargain. 

Mrs. T. What is it, eh, dear? 

Toodles. As soon as I saw it, I said to myself, it will be 
\ just the fit for my dear Tabitha ! 

t Mrs. T. Don't plague me. What is it, eh, dear ? 

\ Toodles. I think I can see you looking so nice and com- 

fortable in it ! 

Mrs. T. Well, why don't you tell me what it is ? 



THE TOODLES. 27 

Toodles. Just your fit. A nice brass plate on it, and 
varnished all over. 

Mrs. T. Yes, yes, and it is 

Toodles. A coffin, my love ! 

Mrs. T. Oh, you brute ! 

Toodles. We don't want it just now, but we don't know 
what my happen, and then how handy it will be to have 
it in the house ! 

Mrs. T. Oh, you wretch, you'll be the death of me. 

Toodles. Will I — it's lucky I bought the coffin. 

[ Goes up the stage with Mrs. Toodles. 

Enter Mary Acorn and Farmer Acorn from c. 

Mary. TJncle, here's my father ! 

Geo. No — no — Mary, it is impossible, for your sake and 
that of my brave preserver — your father is free — but don't 
ask me to see him. 

Mary. Here is the picture of your own Mary — she who 
was once so dear to you. [Produces miniature. 

Let her intercede with me for forgiveness of the past — 
ehe who was dearest to your heart. 

[She gives him the picture. 

Geo. Mary ! — Mary ! 

Mary. Father ! — uncle ! 

f Takes a hand of each and places them in each other 
— George Acorn deeply affected, says ; 

Geo. Frank! 

F. Acorn. Say brother ! 

Geo. Brother ! (they embrace) 

Cha. Mary! 

Mary. Charles ! (they embrace) 

Mrs. T. Toodles ! 

Toodles. Tabitha! 

[Mr. and Mrs. Toodles embrace, and the curtain 
descends. 



c±r " t T 



THE TOODLES. 

Disposition of the Characters. 



28 




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OCT 19 tMff 



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